I've listened to the song " I'm not going to miss you' many times. Somehow he knew and wrote the song I believe to let Kim know when he did not remember it was OK.
I'm still here, but yet I'm gone I don't play guitar or sing my songs They never defined who I am The man that loves you 'til the end
You're the last person I will love You're the last face I will recall And best of all, I'm not gonna miss you Not gonna miss you
I'm never gonna hold you like I did Or say I love you to the kids You're never gonna see it in my eyes It's not gonna hurt me when you cry
I'm never gonna know what you go through All the things I say or do All the hurt and all the pain One thing selfishly remains
Here is a link to the eulogy that Kim gave at Glen's memorial service. I tried to copy it but I couldn't figure it out. If I do I will post it but until this is the link. She compared her loss and recovery to the eclipse.
I stand here today to say a final goodbye to my husband — the father of my three children, my best friend and the love of my life.
I'd like to be able to share the 'real Glen' with you — the one you've never seen or heard before — and tell you secrets about his personality and his quirks, butt can't. There were no secrets with Glen. He was the real deal all the time. Glen was open and honest about his struggles and humbly gave God all the glory for turning his life around. You'll notice in any video you see of Glen singing 'Rhinestone Cowboy', that he never failed to point towards heaven when he sang the line, "I want to be where the light is shining on me."
A few days ago, I put on protective glasses to watch the eclipse. It was disorienting. Everything was so dark. I felt like I had suddenly gone blind. But when I gazed up at the sun, I could still feel its warmth and see its soft glow through the lenses.
Then I noticed a little sliver of pure darkness begin to cover the light.When I took off my glasses temporarily, everything around me looked fairly normal. The change was very subtle. Almost unnoticeable at first.
But each time I looked at the sun. I could see the darkness spreading, growing. and blacking out the light just a little bit more.
The sun was still there.. and still shining., but it wasn't as radiant as usual.
Gradually, a little more darkness crept across the sun until the moon almost completely blocked it out — and the world became darker and colder.
It was surreal. A strange feeling of fear and sadness washed over me.
It was only when the eclipse was at its totality that I could finally take off my protective glasses for a moment and take a courageous look directly at the face of the waning sun.
Although I was prepared — I'd read all the articles, studied the science, spoken to friends and knew what to expect — it took everything I had to face the sun as it went dark.
And then he was gone.
As I stood there, frozen, a small burst of bright light emerged from one edge of the darkness, changing the total eclipse into a shining diamond ring.
On the day I lost Glen. I felt like I was in total darkness. In the weeks since. I've been searching for that new light to emerge from the other side. Waiting for the world to come back to life so that I can see clearly again. As I look at the ring on my finger, the ring that symbolizes the love and light that Glen enveloped me in for the last 34 years, I find immense comfort in knowing that there is light on the other side.
Glen truly is where the light is shining on him now - and for all eternity.
Kim Campbell posted the following on Facebook looking for people to write blogs on caregiving.
"While the family and team here at CareLiving.org are still processing and grieving Glen's passing, we are seeking guest contributors to keep the blog active for our readers. If you or someone you know is a great writer/journalist and a caregiver, we'd love to hear from you. Ideally, CareLiving articles: are 300-500 words, include a high quality photo or video, are positive or have a positive message, are written first person. They do not have to be about #Alzheimers or spouses. We'd love to hear from parents, children, friends, anyone who is a caregiver for any ailment. Young, old, male, female, all are welcome and encouraged to join us in bringing hope and positivity to fellow caregivers. So tag your friends, email us at info@careliving.org, and join the team!"
Today there was an article by his daughter. I am posting the link but also here are a few sentences I really like:
But his daughter Ashley says that along with the sadness, there was a sense of relief that her father was no longer suffering.
“I’m glad he’s not stuck in that physical state any more,” says the singer/songwriter, 30.
“I’m relieved for him that he doesn’t have to still live in a fog and be uncomfortable.
“He wasn’t in physical pain but I believe it was a different kind of pain, of not knowing anything that’s going on in your life. I’m really glad he’s not suffering any more.”